Blood Pressure
by Red 000
Summary: Eric sends Pam to ask for Sookie's help on a case of missing female vampires in the Bon Temp area. But Pam never makes it to Sookie, and Eric may just have to add his progeny's name to the list.
1. Beautiful

**You know, it's funny-**

**-I had owned the first season of True Blood for a good year or so before I had finally decided to pop it in and watch it. I had seen one or two episodes beforehand (completely out of order mind you) and that lame perception of it had killed the show for me (or so I thought). My boyfriend watched the show and convinced me that I should watch it with him because all of his shows are dead and he wants some 'bonding' time with me... Lame!**

**Anyway, I gave it a chance and now I have to admittingly say that I'm hooked. I love this show-everything about it. It's great and amazing and now that the season is over, I'm stuck sitting in anticipation and writing fanfiction.**

**Kinda like I do with all my dead/currently off the air shows.**

**T****he point is that this is the end result of my boredom. Before we get too far into it though, let's get a few things straight...**

**1. I don't do pairings: **Unless the people are already together, I don't see the point in making surprises. Basically, if they're together in the show, they're together in this fic.

**2. Rated 'T' for Totally Super!: **The actual show is like... the 'R' version of television. If you get offended by anything in here, you shouldn't be watching True Blood. However, if things get too heated, I'll gladly change the rating.

**3. Sookie is annoying as hell: **It's true. Don't argue with me. I look forward to her "it's-never-going-to-happen-death" every episode. My (totally accurate) opinion of her will not effect her character in this fic. In other words, I won't make her a blubbering chimpanzee.

**4. Tara is annoying as hell:** (See 3).

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of these characters or the storyline that is the awesomeness of True Blood. If I did... Sookie would be dead and Bill wouldn't be so stuck up her ass. (This disclaimer goes for the rest of the chapters in this story).

**Enjoy.**

* * *

Fangtasia was thriving; crawling with fangbangers and curious tourists dancing to unnecessarily loud music and drinking excessively. It wasn't unusual for a Friday night, but Pam was already irritated earlier that evening and the obnoxious thumping of music and pestering of humans was starting to drive her up a wall. Eric had offered to close up early and let her relax, but she didn't want to spoil everyone else's fun simply because she couldn't get a grip on her emotions.

Truth be told, she hadn't felt like herself for a while now. She was happy with everything and content with her life, but there was a small longing for something more. That small longing slowly grew into a much bigger loneliness and eventually, much to her dismay, Eric began to notice. Thus, leading to his offer to close down the bar and let Pam have some 'Pam-time'.

But 'Pam-time' wasn't going to fix anything. So instead, she convinced her maker that all she really needed was a little fresh air, and it was nothing bouncer duty couldn't cover.

Bouncer duty wasn't doing shit. If anything, it had made her mood slightly worse. The only plus side to the job was that Eric couldn't see her, meaning he couldn't ask her what was wrong; leaving her to take her irritation out on the group of kids that were trying to convince her that their IDs were, in fact, real and if she didn't believe them they would gladly show her a "good" time.

One kid in particular was pushing his limit. Like most fangbangers, he was overly dressed in goth-gear with a wacky, spiky haircut and a ridiculous amount of chains and piercings. Pam always wondered what possessed humans to think that vampires were into that kind of stuff. She preferred cute, blonde, and petite herself, and she knew Eric liked about the same. And yet, every night people would approach her and Eric decked out in a cheap Halloween costume and try to seduce them.

_Idiots._

"Please," the kid was begging now. "You gotta let us in. We won't drink or nothing, promise! You just don't understand! I—"

"No, I don't think _you_ understand," Pam interrupted; her patience gone. Thinking back on poor decisions, Chow should probably have played bouncer tonight. "The law is still the law. No minors. Now beat it, you're holding up the line." The trio scoffed and tried to plea with her again, but Pam was through with explanations and excuses. Angrily and with fangs exposed, she hissed; finally frightening away the youth, but drawing attention to the small group that was next in line.

_Great… round two_. She bitterly thought, not bothering to retract her fangs.

"Whoa, that was _sick_, vampire-lady!" Pam rolled her eyes.

"ID," she snapped, disregarding his enthusiasm. "And for the love of god, please be legal."

"Ouch, chill, lady," the man said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his driver's license. The couple behind him mimicked his actions, allowing Pam to quickly check their ages and let them in with little to no interaction. She couldn't help the smile that spread across her face as she watched them walk past her. They kept their heads low; bowing down in a poor attempt to escape her gaze: fear evident on their faces.

She exhaled dramatically and turned around only to jump back in surprise at the face that was mere inches from her own. Pam instinctively shoved the frail man, sending him airborne a good ten feet before he finally collided into his friends; ultimately ending up on the ground.

The vampire blinked before realization dawned on her and she quickly fell back into her personality.

"I would strongly recommend not doing that," she stated coldly, crossing her arms and raising a brow. It was a group of four, all males, and completely varying in ages. She took a sniff and recoiled in disguest before quickly labeling them: The fat one, the twitchy one, the oldest one, and the boney one—she had a feeling they weren't going to be going anywhere anytime soon.

The oldest one grinned and walked up to her as the rest of the group picked the boney one up off the gravel. The remaining three gave her an unpleasant glare.

"Our apologizes, beautiful," he coolly stated, although he did seem slightly bitter about the whole ordeal. "It wasn't very smart on his part. I'll admit that."

"No, it really wasn't," she licked her left fang. "I.D."

"You're so beautiful. Has anyone ever told you that?" He tried to stroke her face, but she swatted his hand away.

"I may have heard it once or twice within my lifetime," her usual sarcasm seeped through her words: powered by her current attitude.

"And what a lifetime it must have been," He trailed off and licked his lips, eyeing her hungrily. "You deserve to hear it every day. You are _beautiful_."

The group behind him snickered as if they were in on some kind of joke. Pam swallowed in slight nervousness as she began to feel slightly uncomfortable. She was beginning to regret wearing her skin-tight, deep-V leather dress and hooker-looking boots.

"I-ID," What the hell? She's stuttering now? Pam does not stutter—_especially_ not because of some human.

"Oh, why would we go in there when the show's out here?"

"Mmmm, I appreciate the gratitude, but I don't sway that way," she was surprised at the sound of her voice. Despite the growing itch of awkwardness, she still sounded like her bold, confident self. Theoretically, she could (if she really wanted to) rip these four apart. That fact was a strong enough reason to not particularly care what these idiots had in mind.

The man's eyes widened in pleasure at her response.

"You're gay?" He glanced behind him and smirked at the three. They chuckled and jumped in excitement. "Well, that's even better! You're just getting more and more _beautiful_ by the second."

Pam had an odd feeling that their definition of beautiful was slightly different compared to the rest of the sane community. She blinked and shook her head to try to stop her wandering thoughts of what exactly these four kept snickering about.

"If you guys aren't coming inside, then beat it. I've got a job to do."

The older one grinned again, showing off smoke-stained teeth.

"Your maker, he owns this bar, right?" Pam snarled.

"What's it to you?"

"Just curious, I suppose."

"Get lost. You're holding up the line," she waved her hand dismissing the four. It was a poor excuse considering there was absolutely no one in the parking lot aside from the five of them, but there was a slight tension in the air that was making the vampire uneasy. She wanted them to leave.

"Aren't you going to answer my question?"

"Aren't you going to get off my property?"

"_Your _property?" The man grinned. "So you own this bar, Beautiful?"

The side of Pam's mouth twitched in annoyance.

"Eric and I both own it. Why are you so—"

"Eric, huh? How old is he? Four… five hundred years? I heard he was an old vampire," the group behind him leaned in closer as if this was the question they had been waiting for all night. Pam frowned and silently refused to give them the satisfaction.

"If I see you inside, I'm kicking you out," she turned to walk back into Fangtasia.

"Awww, come on, Beautiful! I didn't mean anything by it. Don't be such a drag," he grabbed her shoulder and attempted to pull her back outside. In a flash, she spun around and hissed; reminding the group of a vampire's possible viciousness.

The man instantly let her go. The rest of his movements were slow and cautious. They reminded Pam of what someone would do to a wounded or frightened animal in a way of showing her he meant her no harm. Pam raised an eyebrow, still irritated, but she relaxed slightly.

She looked at the man again, this time with intensity. Her eyes locked on to his as she channeled her energy into him. He eased out of his cautious posture and lamely smiled.

"_What are you doing here?" _Her voice was entrancing and strong. Like a spell that engulfed and manipulated his mind. It made the man want to answer the question. He had to, she wanted him to. Nothing in that moment mattered. Nothing, but Pam, existed.

"We came here to—"

Before he could fully answer, the fat one in the group had caught on to what she was doing. Out of nowhere, a small silver necklace chain flew out of his hands and straight onto Pam's face. The vampire's spell was instantly broken and she pulled the thin jewelry off her cheek, shrieking at the suddenness of it. It was too small to do any real harm, and she healed almost instantly, but the action itself was enough to elevate her anger.

"Don't glamour him," the pudgy man had the nerve to say. "Our business is our own."

"Then you can take your business…" All attention shifted to the door as the 6'4" blond Viking causally walked out of the frame. "…And go elsewhere with it."

"We have every right to be here," the fat one defended, although his confidence was quickly fading as reality began to take over.

"Not if you're going around throwing silver onto my employees. You're lucky I don't—"

"What? Call the cops?" Eric's eyes darted from the chubby man to the leader. He hated being interrupted, and Pam knew he was irriated, but her maker still held his cool attitude. He towered over all four men and growled.

It was clear they were intimidated, and the tension that was between Pam and the group skyrocketed, but it felt good being on the other side of the power scale. Pam felt her confidence returning as her maker spoke up again, this time with authority in his voice.

"If I see you around here again, if I smell your presence _anywhere _near my facility, or if Pam here tells me you're giving her trouble again… the police will be the least of your worries." He turned on his heel and began walking towards the door, stopping only when he was level with Pam. He wasn't facing the group, so the blonde was the only one who saw the grin planted on his face.

"_I can't believe you let them get to you," _he teased in Swedish. Pam blinked.

"_I had it under control," _she defended, although she wasn't entirely sure she believed it herself. She was silently thankful he had stepped in, although she would never voice that one aloud. Eric chuckled and walked back inside.

"Goodnight, Beautiful!" The oldest of the group shouted after her. "You'll see us again. We promise!" The four snickered before they left and Pam felt relief overtake her. Slightly shaking from the aftermath, she slowly backed up into Fangtasia.

Suddenly, the company of fangbangers and tourists felt a little more welcoming than it did about an hour ago.

* * *

**I apologize for any spelling/gramatical/crappy-story-ness you may have run into while reading this fic. Consider this a prologue that will soon turn into some crazy stuff.**

**Until the craziness in a chapter or two starts, I'll hear from you later-**

**-**_Redd_


	2. The List

**This chapter is much longer than the last, but it's a lot of talking. Blah, blah, blah, talking. Somewhat boring, I know, but eh... what are you gonna do?**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

The phone at Merlotte's was ringing off the hook, and it was starting to get on Sam's nerves. He had heard the faint chirping from his office and the fact that it hadn't been answered yet frustrated him. Sookie, Tara, Lafayette, Terry, and Arlene should all be on the clock by now, and at 11:00 in the morning, the restaurant couldn't have been that busy. More confused than annoyed, he got up from his desk and headed into the dining area only to stop when he saw Arlene and Terry standing in the hallway.

Arlene looked worried. Her cell phone was glued to her ear as she stared into space trying to listen to the person on the other end of the line. Terry was rubbing her back, attempting to comfort her, but that was never really his department so the whole situation looked slightly awkward.

"What's wr—" Sam attempted to say, but the phone behind the bar began ringing again. "Oh, goddamn it!" He temporarily left Terry and Arlene to their business and walked behind the bar, scanning the restaurant for the rest of his staff. Lafayette and Tara were over by the pool table, deep in conversation about something. Sookie was nowhere to be found.

"Would it kill one of you to answer the phone?" Sam directed at the two cousins. Tara took her pool stick and placed it firmly on the ground, getting into a defensive pose with her free hand on her hip.

"Why they callin' so early in the morning? That ain't my problem they too lazy to come in here." Lafayette chuckled in agreement as he set up the pool balls for another round.

"What if it's important?" Sam defended, although he really thought it was then he would've answered it by now.

"Shoot, Sam, they can call back. Apparently they know the damn number; they've been calling for a while now." She and her cousin went back to their game. Sam rolled his eyes, but picked up the headset.

"Hello?" he asked, but only got the dial tone. "Goddamn it." He repeated, slamming the phone on the base.

"Mmmmm… someone seems a little upset dis _fine_ mornin'," Lafayette grinned at his cousin who snickered in response. Sam frowned.

"Guys, the phone was ringing for a long ass time, why the hell didn't you answer it? And why aren't you in the kitchen, Lafayette?"

"Sam, look around you. Do you see anyone here? We dead, motherfucker," Tara answered, lining up the Q-ball. Sam scoffed again and headed back into his office, ignoring Arlene and Terry on his way back.

Not even a minute later, the front door opened and Sookie stumbled in. She was fumbling with a seemingly heavy box while trying to get a grip on her apron and work shoes. Tara looked up from her stance, raising a brow, before eventually ditching her game to help out her friend. They placed the box on the bar's counter before Tara started rummaging through it.

"What are all these for?" Tara asked, picking out a football trophy and eyeing it oddly. She read the plaque at the base. "Jason Stackhouse? Why do you have these?" Sookie sighed and blew a strand of blonde hair out of her face before irritation consumed her tiny body.

"Why wouldn't you guys answer the phone? I felt like I was calling for half an hour."

"Aw, not this again…" Tara rolled her eyes. "First Sam, now you?"

"Where is Sam? I need to apologize for being so late."

"He's in his office, but he ain't gonna care. There ain't no one here to serve, Sook. I don't think he even noticed you hadn't showed up." Sookie sighed again and headed toward the back, leaving Tara to snoop through the box of Jason's stuff.

In the hallway to Sam's office, Arlene was sitting on a barrel, almost in tears. Terry stood awkwardly, shifting from foot-to-foot, occasionally muttering a "there, there" and "everything's gonna be fine, sweetie." The scene had caught Sookie's attention.

"What's the matter?" Sookie asked, her willingness to help people had shifted her priorities.

"Arlene's real good friend is in the hospital. It don't look too good. She wants to go see her, but Cody and Lisa have a recital tomorrow night an' there won't be no one to pick 'em up or watch 'em for the weekend." Terry seemed to be getting emotional about the ordeal too. He didn't like seeing Arlene upset in any way, shape, or form; especially when there was nothing to he could do to fix it. Sookie's eyebrows furrowed in sympathy.

"Can't you pick them up, Terry?" She asked and the man shook his head no.

"Her friend's up in Pennsylvania. It'd be a two day trip at least, and Arlene wants company cause there's a good chance that her friend'll…" he stopped himself, his lip trembling.

"Arlene, I'll pick Cody and Lisa up, okay? Go on up to see your friend." Arlene's face brightened.

"Are you sure, Sook? I need a sitter too. I-I-I'd be willing to pay you." Sookie smiled, but nodded.

"Yeah, it's no trouble at all. Go see your friend, okay?"

"Oh, thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" Arlene jumped up and tackle-hugged Sookie, making Terry jump. He had not been expecting so much energy so quickly from the depressed redhead; it had caught him off guard.

"I'll go ask Sam if we can go. Thank you, Sookie!" And with that, she grabbed Terry's hand and dragged him down the hall.

Although Sam's office was Sookie's original destination, she didn't want to intrude on the conversation. Apologizing could wait. Turning on her heel, she headed back towards the bar.

Tara had five of the golden sport trophies displayed in a line on the bar as she continued to dig in the box for more.

"So you gonna tell me why you have a box full of Jason's trophies or what?" Tara asked.

"It's not just his trophies, it's some of his old stuff that he left at my house," she jumped up on the barstool and got herself comfortable before continuing. "He called me this morning _begging _for me to get it. I was already running late, but he sounded like he really wanted it, so I grabbed as much as I could before coming here. I figured we'd be slow, but I thought I'd call anyway. Only no one would answer the phone…" she gave her friend a teasing glare. Tara smiled sheepishly.

"Don't blame me. I don't answer the phone. If it's really important then they'll call Sam's extension. I'm surprised you didn't, it's much easier that way."

Attention was drawn to the restaurant door as the 'ping' above it rang. Two boys walked slyly, their movements reeked of suspicions. If it wasn't daylight outside, Sookie would've been convinced that these two were vampires. Both of their skins were ridiculously pale and the bags that hung deep under their eyes outlined and emphasized them. One of them was crack-head skinny while the other was borderline obese. When standing next to each other, they looked like a really odd pair.

The two of them walked towards the booth in the far corner, ignoring the stares they were getting from the staff.

Lafayette looked up from his pool table and grimaced in distaste. He put the pool stick back in the rack before walking behind the counter and back into the kitchen; avoiding eye contact with the newcomers. He was muttering something under his breath that both Tara and Sookie had missed as he passed by them.

"You're up, Sook," Tara nudged her friend and the perky blond jumped down from the barstool and walked over towards the customers.

"Hello, guys! Welcome to Merlotte's! My name is Sookie, I'll be your waitress this aftern—"

"Great. I'll take two cheeseburgers, extra fries and a Coke," The fat one handed Sookie the menu without even looking at her. The telepath blinked.

"Uh… um… okay… and for you, sir?" She turned her attention to the thinner man who looked at her with sunken eyes.

"Water." He dully stated before handing his menu over as well and turning to face his companion. Sookie's eyebrows knitted together in confusion, and she figured that was the most she was getting out of them. Awkwardly, she headed to the pickup area.

Lafayette stood on the other side of the window; his eyes were locked on the only two customers in Merlotte's; the look of disgust on his face was evident. Sookie walked up to the window and placed the slip of paper with their order on the windowsill.

"Dose two got a lot of guts to be showin' der face up in dis place," he scoffed. "Dem knows I work here, and dem knows I knows who dey iz." Sookie looked confused. She turned to look at the two seemingly harmless freaks at their table.

"You know them?" She asked, turning back to the chef. Lafayette nodded.

"Mmmmhmmm… dem dealers of sorts. Specialize in V. Apparently dey got de best shit in town, but I ain't entirely sure dat dey get it from… willing participants. If you know what I mean."

Sookie's eyes widened, "They _kidnap _vampires for their blood?"

Lafayette shushed her. He lowered his head and his voice before nodding.

"Dat's what I heard, girl. Don't talk so loud. I don't knows if iz entirely true. Wouldn't surprise me dough, dat's how most dealers get der blood. But dey do some weird shit to it—supposed to only be a good high, never bad. I never tried it, so I wouldn't know. Don't plan on it neither; dose greasy motherfuckers ain't worth getting mixed up in. Dey crafty." He took the piece of paper Sookie had placed on the windowsill and backed up next to the grill.

"Watch your back with dem, girl. Don't fuck with dem," he fired up the grill and the entire kitchen soon roared to life. Sookie went back to the bar, to complete their order.

"Can you get me water and a Coke, Tara, that's all that guy ordered."

"Pssh… cheap bastard. No wonder he's so damn skinny, he looks like he could slip through a crack in the floorboard." She grabbed two glasses from the bar and threw some ice into it before turning on the sink and running one through it. When the glass was full, she repeated the process with Coca-Cola, and handed both glasses to her friend.

"Don't expect a tip from them, girl. They look like broke as hell."

Sookie rolled her eyes, knowing that was probably true, but took the glasses from her friend, and headed back over to the table. She handed the two their beverages.

"Your food will be out shortly," she forced a smile, before returning to the barstool she was sitting on before.

Arlene came running out and down the hall, stopping in the dining room and hugging Sookie, almost knocking her off the stool.

"Thank you, so much, Sook! You have no idea how much this means to me," she was practically in tears. "And I'm sorry to leave you two by yourselves on a Saturday night. I'll make it up to you, I promise!" She hurried out the door, Terry was right behind her.

"Cody and Lisa's recital will be over at 10 tomorrow night. It's at their school. The sitter should get 'em tonight though, so your off the hook 'til then. Thanks again, Sookie," he informed. Sookie nodded and understood.

"Be careful, okay?" She smiled sweetly. The war vet nodded, before following his girlfriend out the door. Only to run into a guy walking in.

"Hey, Terry, sorry man. That's my bad," the newcomer apologized, even though it was technically Terry's fault.

"Can't talk, Jason, I'm in a hurry," the man squeezed past the jock, leaving Jason partially confused. Jason glanced around the restaurant before spotting his sister. A smile spread across his face.

"Did you bring the stuff I asked for?" He asked, excitement dancing in his eyes.

"Yeah, I brought it. You made me late today because you needed it _so_ bad," she rolled her eyes, trying to show that he had inconvenienced her, but Jason didn't seem to mind. His face lit up like a kid on Christmas morning at the site of the box.

"Thanks, Sook! It means a lot!"

"What did you need it for anyway?" Tara asked. Jason seemed a little caught off guard that she was the one who had asked. Wasn't she mad with him about the whole shooting Eggs thing?

"Oh, um… I'm making a mural-like thing in my house of all my greatest achievements. It's gonna be great, I'm so excited." Tara snorted at the idea and chuckled at the sight of Sookie's mouth dropping.

"_That's _why you wanted me to grab it all? You made it sound like it was an emergency!"

"It was. I needed it, and I didn't feel like running over to your house to come get it."

Sookie scrunched her face irritation, "Jason Stackhouse, I could—"

"Order up!" Lafayette called from the kitchen. Sookie cursed under her breath. The argument she was going to have with her brother was going to have to wait.

* * *

Eric sat at his desk; arms crossed and concern on his face. In front of him laid a wrinkled map straightened out to the best of his ability. It was a map of his area—Area 5. He rarely used it. He never really had to. His area was up kept rather well when it came to vampire authority, but that was partially due to the fact that he was older than everyone else in the area, the queen included.

He pulled out a box of pushpins and began placing them in various locations until the map was decorated in assorted colors. The Viking frowned, slightly more concerned than when he started.

A knock at the door broke his concentration, and he blinked himself back into reality. Lazily, he walked over to the door.

It was Pam. Her arms were crossed and annoyance radiated off of her posture. Behind her stood a small, frail, frightened man.

Eric cocked an eyebrow.

"We don't open for another half hour," he informed his progeny, but he didn't seem angry about her disturbing him. Pam glanced at the man behind her.

"He insisted. Something about his girlfriend and how he can't find her anywhere."

Eric narrowed his eyes, clearly annoyed.

"_This_ is why you interrupted me?" he asked. Pam cocked her head to the side as the man behind her whimpered. Eric's eyes darted over toward the terrified human.

"Don't bother me with these stupid human problems, Pam. Get him out of my site." He ended the conversation by slamming his office door in both of their faces.

Pam sighed dramatically and turned around to face the man.

"I told you he wasn't going to give a crap," she informed, grabbing the man's arm and began walking him out the door.

"No, wait! You don't understand!" He tried to fight against Pam's grip, but to no avail. "My girlfriend—she's a vampire!"

Eric's office door burst open, and the Viking was instantly in front of the two. The man squealed and recoiled back at the distance the 1000-year-old vampire had enclosed so quickly, not entirely expecting the vampire to act. Pam was slightly surprised too. Why would that little bit of information change Eric's mind on the subject?

"When's the last time you saw her?" he demanded.

"Two-two days ago—nights! Two nights ago. I was going to pick her up at her place, but when I got there, her door was busted and her place was trashed. I couldn't find her anywhere. The only thing I could find was this."

He reached in his pocket and pulled out a small necklace with a tiny purple orb swinging from the end of it. Eric reached out for it.

"It isn't hers?" he asked, about to grab the chain.

"Don't," the man pulled it away. "It's silver."

"So it isn't hers," Eric answered his own question. The man shook his head and bit his lip, praying that the Sheriff wouldn't simply overlook him again.

The vampire looked away, pondering something. Finally, he reverted his attention back to the man.

"What's her name and where did she live?"

"Stacy, sir. Stacy Kane and uh… just right up the road from here."

Eric walked back into his office, leaving the door open. Pam and the man both shared a confused look before following the Sheriff. The Viking picked up another pushpin from the small box and pushed it into his desk, and onto the map right next to a handwritten _Fangtasia_. He then reached into one of the drawers and pulled out a yellow notepad with a list of at least seven names.

"Stacy Kane?" he asked the man, not looking up from the notepad. The man nodded and watched in horror and Eric added his girlfriend's name to the list.

"There are more vampires missing?" He asked, dumbfounded. His eyes kept darting from the list on the desk to the map right next to it. "How could you let so many go missing? Stacy told me that you were a great Sheriff—that you were probably the best one she has ever had! And now all these vamps are missing and you can't find a single one of them?"

"Pam, escort our guest here out of my bar, and please be sure to glamour him while doing so. I don't need this getting out." Pam was in just about as much awe as the man next to her, but she agreed.

"Come on, nutcase," she grabbed the man's arm again, but he wiggled out of her grip.

"I'm not going anywhere until I get some answers!" He held a good defense; however, he had made the mistake in making eye contact with Pam. He was glamoured in under a second.

"Let's go outside for a bit, okay?" She asked. He nodded, and let her lead him out.

Eric sighed, trying to piece all this crap together. He had been on this case for almost a month now, and the fact that he still had no answers was starting to get under his skin. He had a feeling that whoever was doing these kidnappings were human. Possibly drainers. Kidnapping a vampire wasn't exactly an easy task. One had to know _exactly_ what to do to get one to submit. That's what concerned Eric the most.

All the vamps that were missing were female, attractive, and were around 50-100 years old in age. Stacy Kane was the only exception, being closer to 200 than everyone else. Eric racked his fingers through his hair, trying to think.

Pam walked back into the office. Her posture told him that she wanted answers, but honestly, he didn't have many.

"Why didn't you tell me vampires were missing in your area?" she asked, almost offended he hadn't mentioned it to her.

"Because I'm the Sheriff and it's my problem. Because you have been a little on edge lately; I didn't see a need to bother you with my stresses."

Pam took more offense to this, "I have not been on edge! And you can tell me what's bothering you, Eric. I can help with a level head." Eric looked at her and grinned.

"Oh? Was last night your way of proving this to me?" Pam scoffed.

"I told you I could've handled it," she put her hands on the desk and leaned in closer, trying to emphasize her point. "What happened last night, isn't anything new, okay? I get hit on all the time, I get threatened _all _the time, and I get attacked… occasionally. But I can always handle it. _Always._"

Eric smirked. He knew that she could. He never once doubted her, but he did like getting on her nerves sometimes.

"So what's going on exactly?" Pam asked; her eyes dropped down to look at the map. When she actually got a good look at it, she swallowed in surprise. That was a lot of pushpins…

Eric sighed, "A couple weeks ago, a vampire by the name of Amber Maxx disappeared here," he pointed to the blue pushpin.

"Two days later, another vamp vanished here," he pointed to the green one.

"And then I lost track and this happened," he threw out his hands to indicate he meant the whole map. "All the disappearances happened within a thirty mile radius of Bon Temps, all of the victims are female, and all of them vary in ages."

"Do you think it may be drainers?" She asked. Eric shrugged.

"It's possible, but not set in stone. It's hard to catch a vampire, let alone move one from one location to another. I really have no idea what's going on and if I don't figure it out soon, someone else will begin to notice." Pam's eyes widened.

That "someone else" was a higher authority. If the queen or someone higher got involved, Eric could lose his job… or worse. The vampire authority has been known to accuse the one in charge for the unsolved crimes they couldn't figure out. He take the blame for the kidnappings… along with the punishmen. Pam swallowed.

"Why don't you ask a daywalker to help?" She offered, trying to hide the panic in her voice. "That way, we have more time to figure it out."

"It's my problem, Pam. I'll deal with it."

"Eric, you can't just—"

"Pam, listen to me—"

"No, you listen!" She snapped, her anger and frustration from the past few days finally catching up with her and being released on her maker. Eric understood this, but his progeny still caught him off guard.

"I am _not_ going to sit here and let you get in trouble _again_. Do you understand? Now go get Lafayette or Sookie—"

"Sookie wants absolutely nothing to do with us anymore, Pam," Eric interrupted coolly as opposed to his child's outburst.

"I can talk to her; I'll make her change her mind," Pam was determined, but Eric saw desperateness in her eyes. She was so tired of being knee deep in authority issues, the sooner they got this case over with the better. Eric sighed in defeat, but nodded.

"Fine, fine…" He mumbled, and Pam felt a warm bubble in her chest from triumph.

"Summon Sookie here. Tell her I'll pay her for her services and afterwards, she'll never have to hear from us again."

Pam tried to stop the smile that insisted on spreading across her face.

"Oh, but Pam," Eric warned. "If she says no, this is my problem, not yours. Got it?" Pam nodded in understanding, before hurrying out of Eric's office. The Sheriff looked at the time and moaned in irritation.

It was time to open up Fangtasia.

* * *

**I appologize for any poor grammer/boring storyness you may have encountered while reading this fic. I'm shooting for tomorrow for the next update. If it works out, I'll see you then :P**

**-**_Redd_


	3. Phone Calls

**Thanks for all the reviews, guys! They make me smile. :D**

* * *

Pam had made it to Sookie's house, but she didn't have to go up to the front door to know that telepath wasn't home. All the lights were off, Pam didn't catch Sookie's scent, and her pathetic excuse of a car wasn't in the yard.

Her next stop was going to be Bill's house, but she had heard through Eric that Bill and Sookie weren't exactly on speaking terms, so the chances of her being over there didn't seem likely. The only other place the vampire could think of was Sookie's place of employment, Merlotte's.

Sam wasn't exactly the welcoming of sorts when it came to vampires, although she had heard that he invited Jessica to come work for him. It didn't change the fact that the sight of her was probably going to make the shifter kick her out before she even had a chance to find Sookie. Not that she particularly enjoyed being in there, though. It reeked of rednecks, gossip, and dead animals, and the thought of entering the hellhole made her groan. She wasn't looking forward to it, but she found herself heading out that way anyway.

When it came to Eric, Pam wasn't someone to mess with. She would die for her maker, and on several occasions she almost had. Eric meant everything to her. The thought that he had almost gotten in trouble with the vampire authority over the whole Russell Edgington ordeal almost threw her into a homicidal rampage, and she refused to have a repeat of the incident.

She would never tell him this of course. It was way too sappy for either party, but she had a suspicious feeling that he already knew, and the feeling was mutual.

Pam looked up from her thoughts, seeing the green, cursive neon light that read Merlotte's through the trees in the distance. She was almost there.

"Now… what to say to Sookie," she mumbled to herself. Sookie may have been furious with Eric, but Pam knew that she didn't want him dead or in trouble. The girl had a habit of trying to help people, regardless of their current relationship status. Pam thought she would try to use this to her advantage.

_Snap._

The vampire stopped in her tracks; allowing her fangs to snap into place.

"Funny thing about hiding in the woods," she turned around, but was only addressing an empty, moonlit road. "So many noisy things to step on…"

She took a step forward.

"I know you're there…" she taunted. She sniffed the air and caught a scent, but it dropped almost the instant she had picked it up. Cautiously, she turned back around only to find someone standing right in front of her.

She shrieked and tried to shove the man, but he had caught her wrists with strength that didn't fit his frail, skinny shape.

"Ah, ah, ah! You can't do that to me twice," he grinned. Pam's eyebrows furrowed as she tried to retrieve her hands, but to no avail. From under his legs, a small boy dashed out and smacked her knees, before tackling her and sending her to the ground. He sat on top of her and grinned; his messy black hair covering his eyes.

"Get off of me, freak!" Pam shrieked and shoved him off. She jumped to her feet and faced the two. They were two of the members from the group that was bothering her last night.

"Hello, Beautiful," a voice from behind them rang in a sing-song voice. Pam frowned recognizing the voice. She turned around.

"What do you want, creep?" She asked the leader, raising an eyebrow. The man smirked.

"Beautiful, you never seize to amaze me," he made a motion with his hand and the pudgy man emerged from the bush in the forest. He was holding a chained, silver net that glimmered in the moonlight. Slowly, he made his way over to her. Pam growled, although she was beginning to feel a bit uneasy.

"Your beauty, your grace, your _age_…" he smiled as the leader continued; ignoring the low, threatening growls that were emerging from her throat. "You are _just _what we need for our little recipe to work."

"Recipe?" She asked. The man nodded.

"You're going to make us _extremely _wealthy, Beautiful," he grinned, his teeth still stained the disgustingly yellow that made Pam recoil in disgust. "In more ways than one…"

"You think you can catch_ me_?" She raised an eyebrow, testing him. The man laughed and shrugged.

"We could try. The odds are already in our favor. I mean, it's not like you can run."

Her eyebrows knitted together as she glanced at the two behind her. They both shared a sadistic grin and simultaneously raised their hands to show off their palms that were covered in a light blue cream with black specks swirled into it. She looked down at her wrists and knees; just now noticing they were growing slightly numb. The creamy substance was on her as well, and she tried to brush it off, but she was only smearing it more.

Panicking, she tried to dash away, but she was nowhere near as fast as she normal: running instead like a tiny woman in high heels and not like the 200-year-old, experienced vampire that she was. The small twitchy one caught up to her first, once again sending her to the ground and splashing into a puddle of mud. He rolled her over; her view changing from the dirt to the sky.

She shrieked and tried to kick and scream and thrash at the boy, but her wrists were numb and her strength was gone. She had never felt so pathetic in her life.

The boy on top of her, fumbled for something in his pocket, before pulling out a small bag that he quickly ripped open. Pam hissed at him in a weak attempt to frighten him to get him off. He responded by dumping the contents of the bag all over her face.

Purple dust rained down on Pam. She coughed and gasped for air, trying to get away from it, but she had already inhaled the strange dust. She felt the boy's weight lift off of her and she used this opportunity to turn around. She tried to crawl away, but she couldn't stop gagging. On all fours, she glanced behind her; still coughing. The leader was walking up to her now. He had a sweet smile on his face as opposed to the group behind him. She kept trying to crawl away, but the leader grabbed her foot and pulled; sending her to the ground again. She sobbed and tried to fight him, but it was hopeless. The man rolled her over on her back and held her chest down with his forearm while stroking mud off her face with his free hand.

"Shhh… there, there," he soothed, stroking her hair and trying to calm her down. She coughed and sobbed and made a weak attempt to hit him in the face, but he grabbed her wrist and held it down. "Hey, hey, we just needed to make sure that you didn't call your maker. We can't have that. Not yet."

"I-I can still—call him" she managed to say between coughs. The group laughed.

"Oh…" He put on a fake, sympathetic look. "Try." He smiled, and she wanted so badly to smack him for mocking her.

"Go on, try. We won't stop you." She coughed again, and squeezed her eyes shut; channeling with all her might, begging her master to please come. To please help her, to _please _get her out of here: she needed him. She needed him to be here, she was hurting, she was hurt, and he needed to be here. She was sending all of her emotions, all of her pain, and fear, and desperateness…

…But she got nothing in return.

No worry, no concern, no rush… She felt tears forming in her eyes and they streamed down the side of her face. How could he not care? How could he not hear her?

The man's eyebrow furrowed in mocking concern, "Hey, don't cry, Beautiful. You're too pretty for all that nonsense." He wiped away her bloody tears and gave her another sweet smile.

"We're gonna take real good care of you now, okay? We're your masters now." He stood up and looked at the chubby man before motioning his hand toward her. The fat man nodded, and drapped the netted chain over Pam's trembling body. She screamed the entire time they dragged her away.

* * *

It was 6:00 in the morning when Sam lazily opened up Merlotte's. He always came in early to settle some morning paperwork, do some safety procedures, and take a quick nap before he was in charge with breakfast. It was also, in its own way, Sam's quiet-time. He enjoyed these moments in his restaurant when it was quiet and the air was still. No clanging of dishes, no obnoxious customers ranting and gossiping about stupid stuff, no telephone ringing and no one answering it…

Just Sam and his restaurant.

It would last until eight or nine when Lafayette came in, but that was plenty of time for the shifter to get everything ready for the day, although he did have an extra amount of things to do considering how hectic last night had gotten.

He had understandably given Arlene and Terry the okay for them to leave to go see Arlene's hospitalized friend, but that didn't change the fact that it was a Saturday night and Merlotte's was busy. It had taken a while to get into the flow of things, and both Sookie and Lafayette had pulled a double to pick up the extra shifts. He felt bad for overworking his friends; especially because they were both scheduled tonight as well, but they had pulled through and done so with no complaints.

It was just another reason to appreciate the silence, and yet another reason to get irritated when the phone started ringing.

"For the love of…" Sam started before getting up from his desk and walking over to the bar. The sun wasn't even up yet, who the hell could be calling? And why didn't anyone know his office extension?

"Hello?" He sounded a little more irritated than he probably should have, but who could really blame him. This wasn't his quiet time.

_"Sam Merlotte? This is Northman..."_

Sam blinked before glancing at the clock. It was almost seven.

"Eric Northman? The vampire?"

"_Do you know another Northman?" _Eric asked, not bothering to hide his sarcasm. Sam scowled.

"No, it's just… it's seven and… what do you want?" Knowing the vampire's personality, Sam wasn't going to get as solid answer from him.

"_Is Sookie Stackhouse there? I need to ask her something and she's not answering her phone." _There was an unusual desperate cling to his voice. It was barely noticeable, but there nonetheless. Sam's eyebrows furrowed.

"Uh… she's probably sleeping. She kinda had a rough night last night, and she's not in here until two. You okay, man? You sound a little—"

"—_I'm fine!"_ The vampire snapped. _"Two? In the afternoon?"_

Sam hesitated, still not entirely sure how to take Eric's attitude.

"Uh… um… yeah, man. We're not open at two in the morning. You sure you're okay? I might be able to hel—"

"—_I said I was _fine_,"_ Eric snapped again, but he still sounded unusual. _"I gotta go."_

Sam blinked at the sound of the dial tone. Slightly angered, the shifter hung up the phone, and walked back over to his office. It was too early for Eric's shit anyway…

* * *

Eric hung up the phone and rubbed his temples. The sun was going to be up soon, and Pam still hadn't come back to Fangtasia. The conversation couldn't have been that long. It was a yes or no answer, and although Sookie was known to drag things out unnecessarily, there was no way they could still be talking. Something must've happened.

He looked at his cell phone that he had clutched tightly in his hand. He was half expecting it to ring and vibrate; the caller ID reading: Pam… but it didn't.

He flipped it open again and hit redial for the seventeenth time; shakily holding the phone up to his ear. It rang and rang before going to her voicemail.

"God… DAMNIT!" He shouted, chucking his phone across the room. It smashed into the wall and split into pieces, scattering in every direction. He slammed his fist on the desk in frustration.

Pam was in trouble. He could feel it. Her emotions were going haywire. Happy, sad, angry, happy, super happy, angry, sad, scared, worried, dead, and then happy again… and the worst of it all was how he couldn't pinpoint her location. She was in Bon Temps, and then California, then Canada, then she didn't exist, and then she was in the Atlantic Ocean—he couldn't take it!

The sun was coming up, but sleep was the last thing on his mind. It never even occurred to him until this very moment in time that Pam had every single characteristic of the victims that were missing.

Vampire, female, attractive, 200 years old…

The thought angered him. How could he have been so stupid? How could he not have thought that maybe… just maybe… she might be targeted? He reached up and grabbed his hair, almost pulling it out.

Pam was all he had. He couldn't lose her, he wouldn't. He refused. He would tear apart every man, woman, child, and vampire in his area before he even let the thought cross his mind.

Returning to his desk, he grabbed the corded phone and forcefully pounded her number into the base. Again, it went to voicemail. Eric had to restrain himself from crushing that phone too.

Instead, he stood up and left his claustrophobic office, hoping that more space would help him think better. He wished he could go outside, but he had twenty minutes tops until the sun finally rose and took its rightful place in the sky, and that wasn't enough time to get anything done.

All he wanted was a phone call from someone—anyone—telling him where Pam was. He didn't care if it was Sookie calling to tell him that Pam had stayed the night with her. He didn't care if it was Sam Merlotte calling to tell him that Pam had passed out in the freezer, and she'll be up when the sun goes down. Hell, he didn't care if it was some random person calling to say, "We've kidnapped your progeny"—because then he would know where she _was _and then he would know how to handle it. Not knowing anything was driving him insane.

He sat down at one of the tables in his bar, staring at the wall as if it would give him all the answers. The sun was up now. He could feel the sickening taste in his mouth and the silent throbbing in the far corners of his head. It was his body warning him of what was about to happen if he didn't go to bed.

But he didn't care. How could he? Even if he were to try to go to sleep, he seriously doubted he could. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate, trying hard for the first time to truly locate Pam.

It was like trying to tune a radio, but there was no clear station, and all the wrong ones were painfully loud, earsplitting screeches that forced the vampire to break out of his concentration and clutch his head. He couldn't help the scream that erupted from his throat, or the dizziness he suddenly got from trying to call her. When the pain was gone, he slowly opened his eyes.

He was staring at the ceiling. Somewhere in his painful struggles, he had fallen out of his chair and collapsed on the floor. He removed his hands from his ears and saw blood—a lot of blood.

It wasn't just the bleeds that had done that to him. It was still too early to have that much blood loss. Shakily, he repositioned himself, trying hard to get back into the lounge chair.

He wanted to try calling her again, but his head was still throbbing from the first time. What had happened? That was not normal. Where the hell was Pam?

Before he could think any more of it, Fangtasia's front door opened and sunlight washed out the darkened room.

Eric hissed at the burning rays and flew backwards in his chair, unwillingly flipping over it in an attempt to get out of the sunlight. The intruder was startled. She jumped and blinked, confused as to why someone else would be in the building.

"Oh… uh… Sorry!" she apologized, although her shock didn't fade fast enough for her to act. She stood in the doorframe, blocking most of the light, but not enough to keep her boss from burning.

"Ginger, you stupid, fucking bitch! Shut the door!" Eric hissed. Ginger blinked in confusion and fumbled with the door before finally managing to seal it shut. She ran over behind the lounge chairs and crouched down next to Eric; hovering her hands over him as she tried to think of something to do to help.

"I-I'm sorry, master, I just—you're not normally—I'm usually the only one—I'm sorry!" she stumbled over her apologizes, still dazed as to why he was awake. "Are you okay?"

Eric became a blur, grabbing Ginger by the throat and slamming her back against the lounge chair, fangs at her throat. She coughed and choked out another apology, gripping her weak fingers over his hand. Eric hesitated. His burns hurt, but they were healing, and he didn't have the stomach for food. Growling in frustration, he relaxed his hand and let her go.

"I'm sorry, bossman," Ginger repeated, rubbing her neck. She looked at his bleeding ears with slight concern. "You're not normally awake when I get here, you know?"

"I know that, Ginger, thank you," he got up off the floor and brushed himself off. Weakly, he walked over towards the bar and sat down on the stool. He propped his throbbing head up with his hand and closed his eyes, focusing on the quiet to make his headache go away so he could possibly call Pam again.

"Did you… need anything? Something to drink? I can make you a True Blood," Ginger offered. She felt bad for hurting her boss. When he didn't answer, she walked around the bar, stopping only to catch a glimpse of him before she headed toward the fridge.

She pulled out a bottle, not thinking twice about what type of blood it was, before she unscrewed the top and set it in the microwave. As she pushed in the time, she glanced back at her boss.

Blood was seeping out of both his ears. A small puddle was forming on the countertop from his nosebleed. The vampire's head kept bobbing up and down as if he was fighting consciousness. Ginger bit her lip and walked over to him; gently tapping him on the shoulder.

The Viking shot up, eyes wide open as he woke up and scanned his surroundings. His eyes rested on Ginger's concern face before he relaxed again.

"Are you okay, bossman?" she asked cocking her head to the side. Her eyes looked him over. "You're bleeding, and you look really tired. Should I call 911?"

Eric sighed at her idiocy, although he was somewhat thankful she was here. She was distracting him from his horrid thoughts of what could be happening to Pam, and if he was left alone with those horrid thoughts, he would have probably torn Fangtasia to shreds. Ginger, in a stupid, pathetic way, was keeping him sane.

With that thought in mind, he forced a smile and shook his head no.

"911 won't do much, Ginger, dear. It's nothing a rag won't fix though, do you mind?" he pointed to the washcloth that was hanging on the wall behind her. She blinked, but got it for him.

"Thanks." He wiped away the blood dripping down his nose and in his ears.

The microwave 'binged' and Ginger went to pull out the glass bottle of blood. She handed it to the vampire.

"Here, you should probably eat something…"

Eric tiredly eyed the bottle before closing his eyes again.

"Thanks, but I'm not hungry…"

"Well… uh… did you want to go to bed?"

He lazily shook his head no.

"I'm not tired."

"You look tired," she bit her lip, "Y-You look sick. Are you sure you don't want me to call someone?" Eric shook his head no. His head felt so heavy; he unknowingly set it on the countertop.

"What time is it…?" he trailed off, his voice weak and exhausted.

"10:30," Ginger answered, noticing the vampire was drifting off to sleep. "Did you uh… want to go in your bed? I can help take you there."

"No… no… I need to stay awake. Gotta call Sookie at two… Gotta ask her where… Pam… is…"

Ginger blinked, "Where is Pam?" she asked, looking around cautiously as if the pretty vampire was about to jump out of one of the cabinets and attack her.

Eric shrugged, half-asleep. He cracked open his eyes. "Help me stay awake, Ginger, dear."

Ginger bit her lip, "How? I thought vampires were supposed to sleep during the day."

He nodded and yawned, folding his arms and placing them under his head.

"We are, but I got something to do at two and it's really important. So please help me stay awake…"

Ginger's eyebrows knitted and she bit her lip. Keeping the vampire awake did _not _sound like a good idea, but she was way too small and frail to lift the Viking up to move him to his bed.

Instead, she went into his room and grabbed a blanket, bringing it back out to the bar. She draped it over her boss and wiped his nose with the rag he had in his hand before returning to her daily duties. Waking him up at two seemed a little easier than keeping him awake until then. Besides, she did have a job to do.

Grabbing the spare washcloth, she started to clean and straighten up Fangtasia. She stocked all the alcoholic beverages, cleaned all the dirty dishes, swept, mopped, and wiped the counters (making a mental note that she was going to have to go over the spot that Eric was bleeding all over again).

Normally, she was out of here by one, but if her boss really had something to do at two, she didn't mind sticking around for another hour. Sitting on the couch, she played with her phone for the remainder of the time. At ten 'til two, she closed her phone and walked back up to the slumbering vampire.

Eric was making a lot of indication that his sleep was unpleasant. Although she had told herself she would wake him, she didn't think it was such a good idea anymore. He looked a lot better than he had just two hours ago. He wasn't bleeding anymore, and some color (as much color that a vampire can have anyway) had returned to his face. Even though there was no way he was comfortable, he was healing; and he really looked like he needed it.

Ginger bit her lip. She said she would wake him. Swallowing nervously, she tapped her boss on the shoulder.

"Bossman? It's almost two. Master? Eric?" She shook his shoulder.

Eric's eyes fluttered open before reality came back to him. He shot up, nearly falling off the barstool while doing so.

"What time is it? How long was I asleep?" he demanded, although he was still a little dazed.

"Relax, bossman, it's 1:55. You fell asleep, I thought I'd just wake you up, but I gotta go, so you might want to go into your—"

Eric vanished, zipping off the barstool and into his office. The door slammed shut with a thud. The suddenness of his actions had caught Ginger off guard and she shrieked before calming herself down. Angrily, she huffed out the door.

"You're welcome!" she snapped, before leaving Fangtasia asking herself why she _still_ works for theses ungrateful assholes. She didn't even bother to lock the door.

* * *

The phone at Merlotte's was ringing again. Tara was making a point not to answer nor acknowledge it; clearly sticking to her statement that if it was important, they would know Sam's extension. Instead, she was reading a magazine when Sookie walked in for her shift.

"Hey, Sook!" Tara smiled, closing her book and turning her attention to the blonde.

"Hey, Tara, are you going to answer that?" she asked, referring to the phone behind her friend.

"Psh, they'll call back if it's important," the phone stopped ringing and after a moment of silence, Tara grinned in triumph at her friend. "See? No call back."

"Sam's gonna be angry," Sookie informed as she headed back to his office to put her stuff in her cubby.

"Sam can shove it. We ain't that busy," she turned back to her book, ignoring the phone that began ringing again. "Motherfucker, you really want to get a hold of us, don't you? Sucks to be you."

Sam was in his office when Sookie walked in. She greeted him, but he didn't seem to notice her. His head was down and he was tapping his foot impatiently at his desk.

"Are you okay, Sam?" Sookie asked while she tied on her apron.

"Is it really so hard to answer the damn phone?" Sam snapped, looking up from his paperwork. "I mean, I get if you don't want to talk to people, but—God! Is it really that hard to just pick it up and say, 'Hello? Sorry to make you wait, but I'm too busy being a bitch to turn around and help you'?"

Sookie laughed, "Tara is Tara. Why do you think this is the longest job she's ever had?"

"Yeah, yeah…" Sam mumbled. He stood up and headed towards the dining area. Sookie smiled and followed him.

"Oh, hey, Sam," Tara greeted, the phone still chirping for attention behind her. Sam pointed to it with a stern look on his face before picking it up.

"Hello? This is Sam Merlotte," Sam greeted, trying to hide the frustration in his voice.

"_Why the hell do none of you answer your fucking phone?" _Sam blinked in confusion, clearly taken aback, but it wasn't because of the caller's attitude. He looked outside, and then at the clock in hopes of some sort of clarification, but nothing he did was helping.

"…Eric?" Sam asked. The blonde waitress looked over, her eyebrows knitted in confusion.

"_Yes, is Sookie there? You said she worked at two. It's now 2:15. Is she there? I need to ask her something…" _Eric had made no attempt to hide the desperateness in his voice this time. It was slightly frightening to hear the vampire freaking out like he was. Sam wasn't entirely sure what to do.

"Sookie?" Sam looked over at the blonde who quickly shook her head no. "Uh… sorry man, she called out today. She said she wasn't feeling well. Something about—"

"_Sam, please, if Sookie's there, _please_ let me talk to her. It's really important. Please, just let me talk to her…" _His voice was shaky and he sounded terrified. Sam was positive if he told the vampire no one more time, Eric would flip out and start begging.

"Uh… here she is," Sam held out the phone to the blonde who huffed in annoyance before walking around the bar. She angrily snatched the phone from her boss before holding it up to her ear.

"What?" she snapped. "I told you Eric, I wanted nothing to do with—"

"_Sookie, shut up! Would you just shut up for once in your Goddamn life and just fucking listen? It's not always about you!"_ Eric spat. He didn't mean to come across so harshly, but the whole event was already throwing him out of character. He needed his Pam back.

There was a moment of silence before the Viking continued.

_"What time did you see Pam last night and when did she leave?"_ His foot was tapping impatiently for an answer.

"What?" Sookie blinked. "I didn't see Pam last night at all. I was here at Merlotte's working a double and then I went home." There was silence on the other end of the line as everything inside Eric had stopped.

"_What?" _He choked out. There was no emotion in his voice. Sookie felt her heart sinking as she began to realize the seriousness of this conversation.

"Eric?" She asked; her anger was gone. "Eric, are you okay? What's wrong? Where's Pam?"

_"She was supposed to be with you…" _Eric muttered. He sounded like a small child talking to himself rather than the 1000-year-old Viking Sookie knew him as. _"But she's not with you… she's supposed to be… but she's not…"_ Eric trailed off, not knowing what to think, what to say, what to _do. _

Pam had never made it to Sookie.

He couldn't wrap his mind around it. It couldn't be true_–_how could it be? That made no sense_–_where was she? Why couldn't he call her?

"Eric? Eric, answer me!" He didn't even know she had asked a question. "Are you okay? Where are you? Hello? Eric?"

_"Thank you for your time, Sookie,"_ his voice still lacked emotion. It frightened the waitress. Eric sounded dead. _"I'm sorry I bothered you…"_

"Eric, WAIT!" There was a click on the other end of the line that was quickly followed by the dial tone. "Eric? Eric? …Shit!"

Sookie hung up the phone and turned toward her boss, just now noticing that Tara, Lafayette, and Sam had all been watching her.

"Sam, I gotta go." She hurried, not waiting for an answer, although Sam had nodded in understanding. She ran to the back and grabbed her stuff, before running back down the hall.

"Is he okay?" Sam asked.

"I have no idea. I don't know why he's awake, but I think something's really wrong." She fumbled with her keys before rushing out the door.

"Sookie, wait!" Tara ran around the bar and out the door, following her friend. The waitress stopped just short of her car.

"Tara, I can't wait, I think Eric needs help."

"Girl, he's a vampire! He don't need help! You told me just last night that you were happy that all this crap was done and over with, and now here you are running right back into the line of fire? Uh uh, hell no! I ain't letting you go."

"Tara, I love you, but I really don't have time for this. I know Eric, something isn't right. I gotta go. I'll be back in a bit, okay?" And with that, she jumped in her car, jamming the key in the ignition and letting her car roar to life.

"Sook, if you really want all this vampire stuff to stop, you need to let it. You're not their therapist, let him sort out his own crap." Sookie smiled at her friend's concern.

"Thank you, Tara," she said, "But I've got to do this. I'll be back soon, okay? And if not, I'll see you at home."

"You better!" Tara warned before backing up and letting her friend reverse. Sookie waved goodbye to her friend before U-turning and heading toward Fangtasia.

* * *

**I'll try to update soon-**

**_-_**_Redd_


	4. Headaches

**Sorry for not updating sooner, guys. Classes got a little crazy and it was either write fanfiction or fail.**

**Anyway, enjoy the next chapter. I know it's a little short, but I was kinda planning on trying to update sooner next time. :P**

* * *

The car wheels screamed as Sookie slammed on the brakes, parking her car in Fangtasia's lot. She quickly killed the engine and scurried out of her car; running to the black, padded door to the vampire bar. She reached for the handle, but hesitated before bursting through it.

If Eric was in the dance room or by the bar, he'd get burnt by the sunlight. Normally, Sookie wouldn't care, but she had no idea what kind of state the vampire was in. He may need all the darkness he could get. She bit her lip in aggravated thought before her anxiety created a sense of restlessness that overtook her. Caving in, she burst through the door.

It didn't occur to her until a little after she had entered Fangtasia that the door was unlocked. Should she have been concerned about that? Could someone have come in and attempted to kill the Viking sheriff? Or maybe Eric had simply gone out to grab a bite to eat.

She rolled her eyes at the stupid thought, but the joke had soothed her uneasy nerves. Everything about this situation and atmosphere felt completely off, and Sookie's couldn't help but think that something was horribly _horribly_ wrong.

"Eric?" She called. Fangtasia was empty. Her eyes wandered over towards Eric's office: noticing the door was wide open as if someone had burst through it, but the room, although trashed, was unoccupied. She found her attention turning to the bar and she found her feet cautiously drifting toward the center of the room.

"Eric?" She called again, scanning the room for the Viking. On the counter sat a cold, untouched True Blood and below that a dropped, lonely blanket.

Sookie's eyebrows furrowed. Perhaps she had severely over exaggerated the situation. What if Eric was fine—or just messing with her? Oooooohhhh…. She would be _so _pissed…

"_**AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!**_"

It came from downstairs. It was the most bloodcurdling, agonizing scream Sookie had ever heard in her entire life. Panic overtook her and her heart dropped to her toes. Before she knew it, she was in front of the basement door, struggling with handle.

"ERIC!" She yelled, her voice cracking. She pounded on the door; smacking it with the palm of her hand and then her fist, but the wood was winning. "ERIC NORTHMAN, OPEN THIS FUCKING DOOR! FUCK!" Her attempt to keep her cool had slipped out from underneath of her and she was panicking now. Her heart was racing; throbbing painfully in her chest.

_**"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" **_

An echo clung to the scream. It was followed by a strange hiss, spitting, and then gagging.

"ERIC!" She called again, almost whining now. Tears rolled down her face in frustration, and her eyes were sore from trying to hold them back. She pressed her ear to the door and tried to listen, but she heard no sounds. Inhaling deeply, she backed up and squeezed her eyes shut in determination.

She threw her hand out in front of her and a bluish-white light emitted from her palm. It blasted outward and hit the door handle, smashing it into pieces. Lazily, the broken door swung open: inviting her in. She smiled to herself; a sense of relief and triumph flushed through her body before she ran through the doorway and raced down the stairs. She abruptly stopped when she reached the bottom.

A coppery scent perfumed the dungeon underneath the nightclub. It was so strong, that Sookie was forced to cover her nose and try not to throw up. She took the time allow her eyes to adjust to the dark. The sight made her gasp; the smell no longer an issue.

Blood was _everywhere. _

In pools and puddles all around the dark, damp room; shimmering brightly and adding a sick color to the basement. Bloody handprints and drag marks decorated the floor like finger paint. Someone had clearly crawled through it.

Her eyes traced one path that vanished into a shadow-hidden corner. An odd noise was emitting from the darkness and she squinted her eyes against the lack of light; just managing to make out a figure.

Eric was sitting on his knees, hugging himself and rocking back and forth. He was noticeably shivering and gagging, occasionally letting blood drip down from his mouth and onto his already soaked shirt before he spat it on the floor. His blond hair (which he usually had slicked back and neatly in place) lazily hung in his face and clung to his cheeks.

He swallowed and muttered something to himself, but the language wasn't English. He shook his head as if trying to clear it and roughly blinked; trying to focus or stay conscious. He continued his one-man conversation, as if he was reassuring himself of something.

After a little while of doing this, he took a deep, shaky breath and reached up for his head. His fingers weaved through his messy hair and pulled tightly as he braced himself for pain.

Sookie took a step forward, clear concern on her face. She was about to reach out to him (it was obvious he had no idea she was there), but an ear shattering scream erupted from the Viking, bouncing off the walls and echoing throughout the dungeon. He violently began shaking, and thrashing around—throwing himself into the corner and bashing his body against the wall.

Sookie jumped. She ran over towards the vampire, baseball sliding next to his thrashing form.

"ERIC! ERIC!" She tried to yell over him, but even she couldn't hear her voice. Blood was oozing out of his ears and nose. It added to the amount he was coughing up.

Sookie was terrified. She had no idea what to do.

"ERIC! IT'S OKAY! IT'S OKAY! PLEASE! IT'S OKAY!"

She was afraid to touch him, but she finally gave in: grabbing the Viking by his shoulders and pulling him close to her, squeezing him as tight as she could. She didn't know what else to do.

Her heart was pounding painfully in her chest; secretly thankful the vampire didn't throw her frail form across the room. She hugged him tighter until his screams began to subside: transforming into coughs which turned to gags. Quickly, he shoved himself away from the waitress before vomiting up more blood onto the floor until he started dry heaving.

He was shaking uncontrollably. Sookie watched in horror as he pulled himself back to his knees and wrapped his arms around him: hugging himself in a weak attempt to stop his shivering.

It was the same position she had found him in.

"…Eric?" She asked, surprised she had found her voice. She slowly outstretched her arm to touch his shoulder, but they both slumped down in defeat. She braced herself from his slouching form, under the impression that he was going to start dry heaving again, but a different, much softer noise was coming from the vampire. His hands covered his face and his head fell to the ground in front of him.

Eric was crying.

It was the second time Sookie had seen him do it, but it still had the same effect on her as it did the first time. She scooted over toward him and gently lifted his head. He wrapped his arms around her waist, and sobbed into her stomach. Her Merlotte's uniform was immediately covered in blood, but she ignored it. She stroked his hair gently and raking it all to one side. Slowly, his sobs subsided and his grip on her uniform loosened.

"…Eric," Sookie began again, still concerned, but feeling slightly better about the situation. The vampire's head was still buried in her stomach. "Eric, please tell me what's going on."

"I was so close that time…" his words were muffled, and she felt his breath through the fabric of her clothes. "So close…"

"Eric?"

"Why are you here, Sookie?" he asked, finally acknowledging her.

"Because you were freaking out on the phone, and I knew something was up, so I drove over here. And I'm sure glad I did, look at you!" She scowled, "Now what's going on? Why were you screaming like you were in pain."

Eric pulled away and sat up, swaying slightly. His entire face was smeared with blood.

"Because I was in pain," he stated matter-of-factly.

She stared at him expecting a more elaborate answer. When she didn't get one, she asked, "Care to explain?"

"Not particularly, no."

"Well, I didn't drive all the way out here to let you cry on my shoulder and ruin my shirt!" Eric's eyes darted from her face to her bloody clothes.

"Sorry," he mumbled, his expression not changing. "Come on upstairs, I'll get you some new ones." He tried to stand up, but his knees locked and he fell back down. Sookie shot up.

"Did the bleeds do this to you?" she asked. She held her hand out to the Viking, trying to help him up. Eric noticed her posture and snorted at her attempt.

"No. Thank you for your concern, Sookie, but I no longer require your—"

"Oh, shut it! I'm helping you. Get over it," she snapped.

"It's perfectly normal to—"

"To bleed profoundly out of your ears, nose, mouth, and eyes? Even for a vampire, that's not _normal_. I'm not that blonde, Eric."

"Get off my property." There was no authority in his voice.

"No." Sookie smiled smugly, crossing her arms. "Not until you tell me what's going on and let me help you."

"I don't need—" he stopped himself and glanced at his bloodstained, trembling hands. He thought about his situation and sighed.

"Okay…" he mumbled. He sounded like a small child, and Sookie unfolded her arms and knelt down beside him.

"I'll be right back, okay?" Not waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and headed towards the stairs: darting up them and disappearing through the doorframe. Eric watched her until she was gone before glancing around the room.

His head felt like it had split open. One more attempt at trying to call Pam, and he probably would have killed himself. What the hell was blocking their bond? His first attempts were suggesting that Pam knew teleportation and was skipping from various locations.

Now, every time he tried to call or locate her, that earsplitting screech filled his ears. He had somehow attempted this five times before the weak aftereffect and blood loss finally made his body cave. He was angry with himself for giving in. He felt so close… _so_ close to breaking the spell that was keeping him from Pam, but his body couldn't take anymore. He was furious with himself for failing her.

At the moment though, a bigger problem was arising. Eric must have been running on pure adrenaline at his constant borderline suicide attempts. Now that he had calmed down, his vision was swimming and his head felt light. Holding up his massive frame was beginning to be a chore. The cold cement looked so inviting. Without a second thought, he let his head hit the ground.

"Ow."

Sookie had come back down from being upstairs, a True Blood and washcloth in her hand. She jogged over toward Eric who didn't have the strength to move before she collapsed beside him, lifted his head onto her lap, and began wiping off his face.

The Viking tried to pull away, feeling like a child being babied by Mommy, but the waitress easily overpowered the weakened vampire and continued to clean his face. When she was done, she grabbed his hands and pushed the towel into his palms.

"In case you need it," she stated. Eric's eyes widened and he shook his head, trying to focus. Sookie sounded like she was under water. There was already an annoying ringing in his ears, and when the fairy spoke, she was barely audible over the obnoxious noise.

"Here." He managed to catch. She handed him something warm and round that he tried to grip but failed horribly. Sookie took it back, pulled him in an upright position, and held it to his lips.

"Drink," she commanded. She half expected him to start complaining about how he didn't drink True Blood, and how she needed to offer herself to him instead, but Eric obeyed her command and eagerly gulped down the liquid.

The blood still tasted metallic to Eric—it was the biggest factor in why he never touched the stuff, but when you're half-alive, you don't complain. He felt his strength returning slightly, but he still felt dizzy.

"Can you walk?" Sookie asked, her voice and figure was becoming much clearer. He nodded, believing he could. With aid from the wall and Sookie Stackhouse, Eric lifted himself up with difficulty. On shaky legs, he stumbled towards the stairs.

It was going to take a lot more than one bottle of True Blood to make this headache go away.

"So are you finally going to tell me what is going on?" Sookie demanded.

…And it was going to take more than True Blood altogether to make _that_ headache go away.

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**Again, I'll try to update as soon as possible. Classes are slowing down, so I have more free time again which means I might be able to get around to updating. Hope you liiiiiiiiiked it! And review if ya want. And as always, I appologize for any gramatical errors you might've found in this chapter.**

**-**_Redd_


	5. A Role Model

**So how _is_ Pam doing, Red?**

**Horribly. -(This apology is for any and all gramatical errors, spelling mistakes, and/or crappiness that my sleep deprived, insominac eyes failed to catch while writing this. To this I say... my bad) Enjoy.**

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Pam moaned and shifted on the twin sized bed. She weakly attempted to pull her hands up to her throbbing temples, but her arms got caught halfway there. She glanced over toward her wrists and saw a bluish rope tying her down. At another glance, she realized that the rope was smeared in the creamy, blue substance that had been used against her last night. She sighed in defeat and exhaustion before glancing around a spinning room.

What time was it anyway? It tasted like daylight. Her body ached like it was daylight. She grunted in frustration—wishing she was in her cozy coffin in Fangtasia and not this hellhole. Her actions caused a stir from behind her and she froze when she realized she wasn't alone.

"Oh, thank God! I thought they killed you!" A female voice beside her caught her attention. Pam looked over to her right. There, in the corner, sat a tiny, rather attractive woman on an armchair. She was just barely in Pam's line of sight, but the vampire could still manage to see the woman's wrists tied together by a bluish rope similar to Pam's.

"I saw them drag you in. I asked if you were dead, but they didn't answer me. I tried talking to you, but you didn't answer me either so I thought you were dead. It's a good thing you're not though, that'd be sad…. I'm Stacy!"

"Stacy?" Pam's heart sank as her mind began to process recent events. "Stacy… Kane?"

"You know me?" The girl glimmered, wiggling against her restraints. Her expression fell immediately and she gave Pam an odd look. "How do you know me? I don't know you."

Pam swallowed and stared at the ceiling, fighting back tears that were begging to fall.

"My maker is Eric Northman," she informed, closing her eyes. "He was looking for you when you went missing."

"Really?" Stacy cocked her head to the side. "The Sheriff was looking for me? That's so sweet of him! I knew he was a good sheriff." She giggled and snorted, again shifting around in her chair. Pam's brows furrowed at the girl's attitude. She tried to reposition herself so she could get a better glimpse of her, but once she had, she wished she hadn't.

Stacy's nose was bleeding profoundly, and her face was stained an odd, purple color—most likely from the powder her attackers had used on her. Her body was cut up and scabs, needle pokes, and stab marks decorated her sickly pale skin. She was sitting in only her a bra and underwear, with a thin sheet draped over her shoulders.

"What did they do to you?" Pam gasped before dropping her heavy head back on the pillow. Stacy giggled.

"The masters? They needed my blood."

"They're not your masters, Stacy," Pam ignored the girl's protests. Stacy was delusional. That much was certain. Pam needed to figure out Stacy's state of mind and whose side she was on before the group came back.

She thought back to the girl's purple stained face. "Stacy, did you try calling _your_ maker?"

Pam heard shifting from beside her as the girl kicked the ground with her bare feet.

"The masters won't let me," She pouted. "Not yet. They say they need more time. They say my maker is too strong for them, and then they took my blood."

"What do you mean, 'not yet'? Are they going to let you call your maker?"

"I'm so glad you're here! Now I have someone to talk to. This is so exciting; we can do so many things together! Would you like to sunbathe?"

"STACY! Please, focus! You need to focus, okay? We need to get out of here."

"Why?" Stacy asked. She was being sincere.

"Because those men are bad people, okay? They're not your masters."

"Yes, they are!" Stacy shouted defensively. Pam immediately shushed her and glanced toward the door. Stacy continued to pout and murmur to herself, ignoring the obvious danger. After a minute or two of no one bursting through the door and rushing in the room, Pam continued.

"Have you eaten anything since you've been here?" She felt her nervousness growing. She didn't want to starve while in captivity. Pam patiently waited, but she didn't get a response.

"Stacy?" She asked, lifting up her head. Stacy was staring at the floor, silently sobbing.

"We're gonna die…" she mumbled. Bloody tears streamed down her cheeks and dropped onto her bare legs. "They're gonna kill us. We're gonna die…" She was trembling in her chair.

Pam's heart pounded painfully in her chest. She wasn't entirely sure of Stacy's state of mind, but she needed help on this one.

"Stacy…" Pam began again, much softer this time. She was trying to calm the girl down. "Stacy, it's okay, you're okay. You're not going to die. I won't let you. Eric won't let you. But I need to know what's going on, okay? Now are they going to let you call your maker?"

Stacy sobbed and hiccupped, but nodded. "They're gonna let me call her, but…" her lower lip trembled and more bloody tears ran down her face.

"But what?"

"But she won't come… she's mad at me," She glanced up at Pam. "Eric's gonna be mad at you too."

Pam's brows furrowed in confusion. "Your maker will come, Stacy. Just like my maker will, okay? We're going to be fine. Eric will get us out of here. I know it."

"Then why aren't they here?" her voice was cracking as her sobs grew deeper.

"Because they did something to us—something that affects the bonds we have with our makers. We can't call them and I don't think they can call us."

"That's not true." Pam felt dizzy as the familiar voice of the leader of their captors boomed around the walls of the tiny room. Stacy squeaked at the sight of him. He casually walked up to her and stroked her face, wiping away her tears. Stacy whimpered at his touch.

"Awww, don't cry, Gorgeous, Beautiful's right. Everything is going to be just fine." He turned his attention to Pam. "Your makers can call you… they just don't care."

"That's not true," Pam defended, although she was reassuring Stacy: not herself. "They can't call us; they don't know where we are."

"How do you know that? How do you know that they just don't give a shit?"

"Because I know Eric." Pam looked at the man with intensity, irritated at his mocking grin.

Stacy's eyes darted between the two, trying to keep the attention off of her. She remembered when she was that confident… three days ago, was it? Did it really only take three days for them to break her? The man snickered and stroked Pam's face. She tried to pull away, but he held her down.

"I like your confidence, Beautiful," he reached into his pocket and pulled out a washcloth and a teabag. He set the bag at the edge of the bed and used the rag to wash the purple powder off of Pam's face.

"I'll tell you what, Beautiful, I'll make you a deal. Call Eric. See if he comes. If he doesn't, then you need to stop filling Gorgeous' head with these silly little stories, okay?"

Pam eyed him suspiciously, but his expression said he was serious. She looked down at the little bag sitting next to her head. It reeked of something fowl, and the smell burnt her nostrils.

"What is that?" She asked, referring to it.

"Nothing. Call Eric," he crossed his arms; waiting. Stacy began whimpering in the corner as if she had something to say. The man glared at her, daring her to speak, but she bowed her head and kept her mouth shut.

Pam scowled, and stared at the ceiling. A sarcastic smirk pulled at her lips. "You got a phone?"

"_Call him!" _The man hissed. "You know what I mean."

"I'm afraid I don't…" She smiled, "Could you please clarify?"

The man grabbed the teabag and pressed it firmly against her forehead. Silver mixed with something Pam could not recognize burned her skin and she screamed and thrashed against his weight. He removed it from her forehead and planted it on her chest, scrubbing it on her body. She screamed again and trashed around, trying to make the bag slide off. The man let go, leaving the bag on her chest and he laughed as she hissed in pain and squirmed to get it off.

"Now see, Beautiful, I don't like to hurt you, but you can't disagree with me like that. When I say do something… you do it? Got it?"

Pam hurt too much to respond. He grabbed the bag and threw it at Stacy. It smacked her in the nose and she screamed at the pain for a second before gravity pulled it to the floor. The man laughed, before brushing off his hands.

"Those are my good girls. I'll see you two tonight!" And with that, he turned on his heel and headed out the door; leaving Pam hissing in pain, and Stacy sobbing on the couch in the darkness.

* * *

Jason Stackhouse smiled at the collection of trophies he was staring at. All of them were placed neatly in a row. Each one 1st place in whatever sport it was representing. Football, baseball… heck, he even had a little bit of soccer on there. He sighed and smiled, admiring his beautiful achievements in the only physical form he had of them. Then, he looked up at the pawn shop keeper.

"So how much can I get for 'em?" he asked. The man picked up a football trophy and eyed it warily.

"I don't know, Stackhouse. What do ye want to sell yer trophies fer anyway?"

"Just need some extra cash. I've got a more responsibilities than what most folks think you know. People to take care of."

"Ah, yeah, like yer sister, eh?" The man licked his lips and bounced his eyebrows as if trying to emphasize a rather crude point. "I'd take care of her too if ye know what I mean."

Jason's face soured. "Sick… Just tell me how much the damn things are."

"Twenty… each. Naturally, I'll 'ave to rip the plaque off of 'em, but the most I can give ye is twenty."

"Sold then," Jason smiled as he traded the rest of his stuff and finished the transaction. He walked out of the shop with a good 250 dollars and walked into the grocery store across the street to spend a good 150.

Ever since he was put in charge of Crystal's family, he's been taking the job pretty seriously. The people need food, better shelter, clothing, and medicine, and Jason had been doing whatever he could to make that happen. The problem, though, had been finding some spare cash. He was running out of stuff to sell, and he had remembered earlier that day that Sookie had all of his trophies and medals. Now he really needed to look for another job.

He left the grocery store with enough food to last his adopted family a good week, and after stuffing his vehicle with it, he headed over toward Crystal's home. There were more kids there than he originally thought. At first, they were never seen—just popping out of bushes every now and again when he went over to pick up Crystal. Now, they were _everywhere_. Buzzing around like a swarm of bees, all of them looked up to Jason. He was terrified of the idea of letting them down.

He pulled into the farm, parking next to an unfamiliar truck. He killed his engine and got out of his car, his attention caught on two newcomers: a thin man and a short kid with an occasional tick in his neck. The two were talking to the children. For some reason, this irked him.

"Can I help you?" The oldest Stackhouse asked as he approached the two, a gallon of milk in each of his hands.

"JASON!" His name was shouted out in a joyous choir by the small children that excitedly came running towards him. He averted his attention to them, smiling and passing off the milk.

"Hey, guys! I got you some food. Go unload it, okay, I'll deal with this." The kids smiled and nodded, all racing towards Jason's truck and digging to get groceries to take them inside.

"You must be Jason," a thin, boney man approached him; his hand outstretched. Jason instinctively shook it, keeping a puzzled look on his face. "We've been waiting for you to get home. The kids were talking all about you. Looks like you're our new head customer."

Jason frowned. "Customer?" He asked, not exactly liking where this was going. If he was their _new_ customer, then they had an old one. And the history of Crystal's family meant that the product they were selling was most likely meth or V.

"My name's Jeremy, this is Twitch," the thin man introduced. "We're here to sell some of the best V you have _ever_ had."

Jason's frown deepened. "Not interested." He waved his hand in an attempt to dismiss the two, but they didn't budge.

"Come on, Stackhouse," The twig man grinned. "This is fresh stuff. Our boss just approved it, and it came from a _gorgeous _vampire. One hundred percent guaranteed to be a perfect high. No freaking out, no withdrawal, nothing. You can't pass this shit up."

Jason eyed them skeptically. He didn't want to admit it aloud, but he was slightly curious. The withdrawal was the only true downside to using V. Everything else was—

"No," Jason shook his head, both answering the dealers and dismissing his thoughts. "I promised a vampire I wouldn't sell or do V anymore, and I don't plan on breaking that promise anytime soon. Besides, I'm trying to get these people off drugs, and having dealers come around here isn't gonna cut it. Now beat it, I don't got time for this shit."

Jeremy scowled. "You promised a vampire? Really? Those lifeless fucks are worth keeping a _promise _to?"

"You know, for someone who sells V, I would think that those 'lifeless fucks' would mean a little more to you than that." Jason countered. If they weren't friendly with vampires, how'd they get their V? The thought made him nervous, and it helped strengthen his mental defense.

"I'm not interested. Get your crap out of here. Now."

"I really think you should reconsider. You won't find this shit anywhere else on the market. It's top of the line."

"I don't care. I don't want it. Now get lost!"

"Fine, but we'll leave you with a sample at least. Try it. If you like it, give us a call." He motioned his head towards Twitch and the boy nodded. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a vile of blood. In doing so; however, a small black bag came up and over the boy's pocket; falling to the dirt.

It went unnoticed.

"Good day to you, Stackhouse," Jeremy nodded in a poor attempt to be classy. He walked towards his truck; the younger boy hopping alongside him.

Jason looked at the vile. His eyebrows furrowed in distaste, but he couldn't bring himself to toss it. Instead, he pocketed the blood and was about to go inside when he noticed the bag Twitch had dropped. Cautiously, he picked it up and untied the strings that were sealing it shut.

An odd, purple powder filled the bags contents. Curiously, Jason pinched a bit and rubbed it on his fingers, allowing the purple dye to stain his tips and nails. He bit his lip, not knowing what to make of it. Instead, he retied the bag and stuffed it in his pocket.

"Are you coming in, Jason?" A little girl shouted from the doorway to her house. She broke him out of his thoughts.

"Not yet," he shouted back as he headed towards his vehicle. "I gotta go somewhere first, but I'll be right back." He headed to his car and climbed in the driver's seat.

There was someone he really needed to talk to.

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**Good news, guys! My college semester is almost over, which means I'm going to have more free time! Which means I can finish this story!... Maybe... yeah... okay, probably not. I still procrastinate, but I might be able to update a little faster than once every... year or so. Anyway, enjoy your week.**

_-Redd_


	6. In The Dark

**I know it's been forever since I last updated this story, and I apologize for that, but I've been busy. That, and True Blood lost my interest there for a little while. I just couldn't keep up with the stupid sappy shit. Oh well, my interest has seemed to of peaked again, so I decided to write this out. Please note: I didn't really proof read this. I'll probably get to that later. So I apologize for any crappiness you may stumble upon while reading this. ...Yeah, my bad. Other than that though, enjoy :)**

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The door swung open towards Pam, so she couldn't see the person who was entering the room, but she braced herself for the worst anyway. Stacy on the other hand, seemed to get really excited whenever that door opened or closed. It was like she enjoyed their captor's presence. The idea irritated Pam. Her peppy, prisoner pal Stacy was going to get them both killed if she kept up with her stupidity.

Pam was so lost in her own thoughts that she didn't realize who had actually walked through the door. When she got a glimpse of him, her anger rose.

It was the small, twitchy kid: the one that attacked her. Great, now she was going to be tortured by this twelve-year-old? This adventure just kept getting better and better.

"Kevin!" Stacy squealed in excitement. The kid's face paled and his head shot over towards the door in panic. When he saw no one coming, slight relief fell over him. He turned back to Stacy and shushed her.

"Quiet, Stacy! They can't find out."

Stacy ignored his request. Instead, she proceeded to bounce up and down in her chair making incoherent squeaky noises. Pam rolled her eyes.

"What do you want, Punk?" Pam asked, eyeing the boy carefully. She could handle anything this guy could dish out. Anything at all.

Kevin didn't answer. He put down a backpack Pam hadn't noticed he was carrying and unzipped it. When he returned to eyelevel, he had two bottles of True Blood in his hands. He opened one and went over to Stacy.

"Here, drink it slow this time, okay?"

Stacy nodded, but eagerly gulped down the beverage. Pam watched in awe. Her expression didn't change when he came over to her with hers.

"Uh… this is gonna be a little harder…" He was referring to her position on the bed. Pam turned her head.

"I don't need it." She stubbornly stated, returning her gaze to the ceiling. "If you really wanted to help me, you would loosen one of these restraints." The boy frowned, he looked genuinely upset.

"I-I can't. They'd kill me. The best I can do is this, and you will need it. I'm so sorry they're doing this to you—to both of you."

"What are they doing exactly?"

The boy bit his lip. "I-I don't think I can tell you tha—"

"Come on, kid! If we're going to die, I'd like to know what's going on at least."

He swallowed and glanced towards the door. After a moment's pause he sighed.

"They're V dealers, but they mass produce the stuff. They figured out some weird formula thing that doesn't cause V withdrawals or give the addict a bad high. And it supposedly feels like you're sucking it out of a vampire yourself and not some stupid vile. It involves having a vampire at all times, though—which is why you guys are here. I-I'm sorry."

"Sorry ain't gonna cut it, kid. Why do they need me if they got her?"

"Because…" he glanced over to Stacy who was oblivious to their conversation. The crazy was really starting to get to her. "She's almost out."

"Out?"

"Out of blood. You, to them, are a goldmine though. Your maker is what? A thousand plus years old? The older the vampire, the better quality the blood, the more money they make. They want to drain you, and then use you to get to…"

He trailed off and bit his lip.

"To who? Eric?" Pam laughed. They can't get to Eric. Eric would slaughter all of them."

"I've said too much, I'm sorry. They'll kill me if I say anymore."

He unscrewed the bottle of True Blood and lifted up her head. "But anyway, that's why I keep giving Stacy this stuff. If she can still give blood, she can stay alive. And they won't go to the fresher vampire yet."

"Fresher vampire… you mean me?"

He nodded. "Now, please drink this. And try to get some rest, they won't be home 'til around seven, it's only noon."

For once with these creeps, Pam obeyed. She didn't want to at first, but the moment the True Blood hit her lips, she was reminded of how hungry she was. The thing was gone before she knew it.

"Thank you!" The boy seemed a little more relieved. "Now, I gotta go. If they come home early, I'm so dead. I'm not supposed to be talking to you."

"Wait! I—"

She was cut off by the door slamming shut. Stacy giggled.

"That was Kevin. He's really nice."

Pam blinked in confusion before shifting back to her cool demeanor.

"He's going to die with the rest of them when Eric comes to get us."

* * *

Eric was sitting at a barstool face down on the countertop. His head felt much better, but it still held a dull ache that throbbed every time Sookie talked. And she was talking a lot.

"I don't understand. She was coming to see me?" She asked, not taking the hint that Eric just wanted to think for a minute. "But why?"

"Because," Eric stated, believing that was a good enough answer. He didn't want to mention his soon-to-be trouble with the Vampire Authority and the possibility of them having his head. If he could find Pam, he'd kill two birds with one stone anyway. No need to worry the ignorant little blonde any further than his missing progeny. Besides, Sookie has a nasty habit of getting in the way when it comes to situations like this. He figured it would be best to keep her as much in the dark as he could.

"Because why?" Sookie asked like Eric knew she would.

"Just… because."

"Well that doesn't make any—"

"Sookie! That's not an issue right now, okay?" Eric snapped, his head shooting up to face startled face. He felt slightly bad about the outburst, but he couldn't think of a better excuse to tell her, and he wasn't in the mood to come up with one of his brilliant lies. She didn't seem to really mind his temper, though. After a moment of silence, he slowly rested his head back down on the counter, ignoring the blood that was oozing out of his nose and ears from the bleeds.

"You have a lot of love for Pam, don't you Eric?" Sookie asked. He didn't answer. She walked from around the bar and rubbed his back. "We'll find her, don't worry."

"I know we'll find her," he mumbled just loud enough for her to hear. "But I don't even know where to begin to look."

"Well let's think about this in retrospect. Who would want to take Pam?"

"It's not because she's Pam, it's because she's a vampire."

"How do you know that?" It was a valid question. He knew it because she met all the qualifications for the other missing vampires in his area, but he couldn't tell her that! No. He'd have to feed her some sort of bullshit. It went back to him not wanting her to worry about his own predicament.

"I just do." He sighed, trying to hide his knowledge. She looked at him oddly before dropping it and rewording her question.

"Okay… who would want to take a vampire?"

Who would want to take an attractive female vampire who's at least a hundred years old? That was the real question. To Sookie's question though, he shrugged, and held his forehead in his hands. His head still hurt, and this whole thinking process wasn't helping. Sookie continued anyway.

"Well, let's see. There are anti-vampire groups, religious nuts, vampire fans, V dealers... Has anyone seemed more or less likely to be interested in her lately?"

"People are always interested in her. She's a hot vampire that bounces my bar."

"Well which one seems more likely?"

"I don't know… probably V dealers. The anti-vampire groups aren't that ballsy, and Pam could defend herself against the other ones.

"Okay, Lafayette told me about some V dealers that came into Merlotte's yesterday. I can ask him more about them and figure out where they live." Eric nodded, slowly drifting off. He was fighting to stay awake. How could he be tired? How could he betray Pam like this! It wasn't fair.

"Eric, can you hear me?" Sookie asked. Her hand was supporting the thousand-year-old vampire on the barstool, balancing him so he wouldn't fall off. Eric nodded, although he didn't catch a single word.

"Let me figure some stuff out while you sleep? You can help out when it's dark."

"No." Eric stated, standing up. "I'm coming with you. I'm going to find Pam. This is my problem, Sookie. I'm not going to leave it on you, not even for a couple of hours."

"How can you come with me?" Sookie asked. "It's still sunny outside."

"I don't know… I'll wrap myself in a bed sheet or something. Or hide in your trunk."

"Eric, I think the lack of sleep and blood loss is really clouding your judgment."

"This is not your problem Sookie!" Eric snapped again, this time his fangs snapped into place to emphasize his outburst. Sookie was trying to give him the benefit of the doubt with his current anger problem. He did lose a massive amount of blood after all, and it was pushing five thirty. He's been up since this morning.

"Eric," Sookie began, trying to get through to the vampire. "You can't go outside. Just wait a few more hours and then you can come with me, but you _cannot_ go outside. You'll burn, and that won't help Pam."

Eric growled. He was slightly intimidating with his teeth exposed, but Sookie knew nothing would come of it. She watched as he clicked them back into place and he stood up. He dragged his feet over towards one of his many sofas, and with a dramatic huff, he collapsed face first into one.

"Fine," He dully stated, just audiable through the leather on his couch.

"Good!" Sookie grinned, triumph in her voice. "I'll go speak to Lafayette. You get some rest, okay?"

"Yeah, whatever," Eric let out another sigh as he accepted defeat. He didn't bother to try to hide annoyance.

"I'll be right back!" Sookie chirpped. She stood up from the bar and walked over towards the front door.

"This might sting a little," she was of course referring to the sunlight she was about to let into the dark club. Eric waved his hand in a 'whatever' sort of motion. Biting her lip, she opened the front door allowing sunlight to sweep through the room. Eric made a face as it touched his skin and lightly burned him before the door closed, again engulfing the room in darkness.

For the first time in his thousand-year-old life, Eric thought that being a vampire really sucked.

* * *

**Yeah, it's a little short. I'll try to make the next one a little longer. At least it's something, right? Right? ...Don't kill me.**

_-Redd_


End file.
